


The correlation between salvation and love

by Renxzs



Series: Starmora Week 2019 [6]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Budding Love, F/M, Post-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Soft Gamora, Some Unspoken Thing, Starmora, Starmora Week 2019, loving peter, they take care of each other, underlying feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 00:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renxzs/pseuds/Renxzs
Summary: When it comes to defending Gamora - to her dismay - Peter's actions are driven by instinct.Starmora Week Day 6: Legend / Instinct & Day 7: Waiting / Always





	The correlation between salvation and love

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give a big thanks sharkinterviewee again for hosting such a successful Starmora Week!!! So many great works and art came out of it, and our sweet space babies deserve every bit of it! <3
> 
> Also, I sincerely thank those of you from the bottom of my heart who have taken the time to read my fics this week, as well as offer kind words and love. It means more than you know!

The leather of her leggings constricted just so as she kneeled on the floor of Peter’s quarters. Her brows were knitted and her features were twisted into a small scowl, not much effort being put into hiding her frustration from him.

Her small hands deftly worked over his bloody one, examining the extent of his wounds. Peter had to admit it hurt a bit, but the pain was totally worth it. Without hesitation, he would repeat his actions a thousand times over and break both of his hands for her if he had to - and he’d do it happily at that.

A drawn out sigh escaped her lips, for what seemed like the hundredth time in just the last five minutes, pulling Peter from his thoughts. Her dark eyes found his as she shook her head disapprovingly.

“You are a fool, Peter.”

“Hey! That’s the thanks I get for defending your honor?” He quipped teasingly in attempt to lighten her mood.

She fixed him with an unamused glare; Peter’s smile slowly melted from his lips, shoulders slumping.

“I do not need defending. You could have been seriously injured.” She gingerly set his hand down before reaching for the medical kit and popping the lid open.

Peter sat quietly as she rummaged through the kit, pulling a few items out from it and setting them down next to herself for easy reach. His eyes roamed over her features, catching every little hidden expression that managed to slip past her carefully constructed wall whenever she was lost in thought; he was getting better at spotting them the more time they spent together. Or maybe it’s that she was beginning to lower her guard more with him.

_ A bit of both _ , he decided.

Gamora abruptly stood and disappeared into the ensuite, returning a moment later with a wet cloth in hand. She eased back down to her knees, and he tried really,  _ really _ hard not to think about how close her warm body was nestled between his legs.

She gently pressed the warm cloth to his knuckles and began cleaning the blood and dirt from them. His lips and an eyebrow twitched as he worked to not wince under her ministrations, determined not to let on just how tender the abrasions on his knuckles were. None of this was Gamora’s fault, but he knew any outward signs of pain would only make her feel worse.

Her eyes remained steadily on his hand as she took her time cleaning the gashed skin. “What were you thinking, Peter? That man was more than twice your size.”

Peter sighed as a twinge of guilt began to seep in, the concern in her tone evident. “Gamora, you didn’t hear the things he said. They were-- _ awful _ . I couldn’t- I couldn’t just-” he huffed; brows furrowed with frustration.

Her gaze flickered up to his and she spoke evenly, “They are just words. I have endured far worse. It was nothing I could not handle.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s just it though. You  _ shouldn’t _ have t’handle it. You’ve helped save the frick’n galaxy!” His voice crescendoed as he threw up his uninjured hand in exasperation. “You’re a damn hero just like the rest of us. You- you don’t deserve to be talked about in the way that guy was. I won’t allow it.”

Gamora was visibly frustrated by his words, but Peter was standing his ground on this. Someone had to fight for her. She deserved  _ that _ much at the very least.

“What makes you think his words aren’t warranted?” Her tone a bit sharper than she intended. “I probably  _ did _ hurt him in some way - maybe his family or a friend - during my time working under Thanos.”

With a despondent sigh she discarded the now soiled cloth and reached for one of the items set out nearby.

His face scrunched up at the sight of the small white bottle she retrieved; it held the antiseptic solution. The inevitable sting and burn that accompanied the use of that godforsaken solution was definitely the worst part about getting injured.

His cheeks puffed as he pushed out a long breath, refocusing his attention on Gamora. “I don’t care about whatever reason that guy might’a had—"

Her dark eyes shot up to him.

“—I  _ don’t _ . You’re not that person anymore, Mora,” he continued in a softer tone.

She quickly averted her gaze, cheeks warming; he’d taken to calling her by this new nickname recently and she still wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it, though her body was evidently beginning to form opinions of its own.

Peter reached out and grazed the outside of her upper arm with the knuckle of his forefinger, touch featherlight. His voice low and soft when he spoke, “Hey... you are  _ not _ that person. You are the most compassionate, kindest person I know. And I’m not gonna to let some jerk say otherwise.” He gestured wryly to his busted, swelling eye and his injured hand - which in all honestly, he was surprised wasn’t broken - and gave a breathy chuckle, “Even if it gets me beaten to a pulp.”

Gamora let out a resigned sigh while twisting off the cap to the antiseptic solution. “I don’t  _ want _ you putting yourself in harms-way for my sake, Peter. Especially when it isn’t even warranted.”

She placed a fresh dry rag under Peter’s damaged hand and poured the antiseptic solution over it, the solution running down his skin and seeping into the rag she held against him. Peter winced with a sharp hiss before he could think to stifle it down, the instant burning sensation quite uncomfortable.

Gamora’s demeanor softened immediately, eyes apologetic to be putting him in further pain. After letting it air dry, she grabbed the bandage roll and tape. Gingerly, she worked to wrap up his injured hand, the process familiar and easy as she’s dressed wounds hundreds of times over the years.

Peter sat quietly while she worked, watching her with an appreciation that extended beyond this single act of care. He couldn’t fight off the gentle smile that grew on his lips.

Upon finishing, Gamora’s fingertips brushed lightly across his now bandaged hand, lingering momentarily before pulling away and averting her gaze. She stretched her fingers in her lap then balled them up into a tight fist, attempting to rid it of a peculiar tingling feeling.

She cleared her throat a bit awkwardly and busied herself with the medical supplies spread around her, rearranging them and pulling out a fresh cloth. Her efforts halted when the warm weight of Peter’s hand was on her shoulder. He waited patiently until her gaze slowly traveled upward to meet his.

“Thank you, Mora.” The sincerity of his tone washed over her and filled her with warmth.

Hesitating only a moment, she lifted a hand and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and softly squeezed in response. They sat like that for a short while as the air between them shifted. The hand Peter had resting on her shoulder very slowly smoothed up the curve of her neck, his thumb softly brushing her cheek. Her eyes drifted to his lips as he unconsciously leaned closer to her.

They lingered mere inches apart and their warm breath mingling in the small space between them.

She spoke barely above a whisper, “I need to care for your head wound.”

Peter huffed a breathy chuckle, “Okay.”

His hand fell from her face as she rose from her spot on the floor. She settled next to him with the fresh cloth in hand. With gentle care, she began wiping away the drying blood from his left temple. He leaned into her touch and allowed his eyes to slide shut.

She wasn’t in a place yet to accept from him that she was worthy of fighting for, defending... of loving.

And that was okay, because he'd wait.

He would always wait for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://renxzs.tumblr.com)!


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